


We Must Be Mistaken

by invisible_moomin



Category: Devilman (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Angst, DMCB universe, Devilman Crybaby, One-Shot, PTSD, Trauma, dmcb
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-16
Updated: 2018-07-16
Packaged: 2019-06-11 08:12:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15311232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/invisible_moomin/pseuds/invisible_moomin
Summary: You can't just expect him to be mentally sound after seeing his best friends' heads on pikes in front of their burning house.





	We Must Be Mistaken

The fire flashed off the demonic eyes he sported, barely breathing as his chest grew tight despite its attempts to heave - whether it was meant to intake air or expel the contents of his stomach, he couldn't tell. It felt as though they had not only set fire to the house and his friends, but his eyes as well as the burning liquid pooled without his consent and began to grow in clusters, clear and crystalline and too pure for the scene before him. After his chest convulsed for a long moment, he finally choked out a breathy sob, bile rising in his throat. He swallowed it, but his throat ached horribly as the tears started to make their way down his face. More sobs gathered in his throat and he dug his claws into the soil - no, concrete, still - as he let out an agonized cry, his gaze fixed above the house where embers flew freely in his tear blurred vision.

 

The next cry came out as a roar, and after that moment he blacked out for at least a moment or two, because when his vision cleared once again, the protesters were gone, blackened scorch marks arranged in the figures of humans being the only remaining resemblance to life. The sobs tore at his throat and chest, his body convulsing against his will as he retched onto the ground and wailed between bouts of sickness. He was barely aware of the newly merged Tako lapping at his tears, soft mewls of concern sent his way as he continued to scream and tear at the very earth he stood upon, craving ichor for once in his life as his thoughts blurrily merged into one point: this was Ryo's doing. His talons had found their way into the muscle of his arms, tearing wounds in them as he attempted to ground himself with a different pain than what was so overwhelmingly sitting like lead in his chest and made his stomach churn. 

 

Ryo had Known the consequences of starting this war all along, and he knew-- he knew how Akira cared for human kind, and did it anyways, His best friend. He'd been his loyal little lapdog, happy to please his master as he slaughtered off demons for what he was manipulated into thinking was for the greater good, but now? All he felt was betrayal at how he'd been used his  _entire life_ by the only friend he knew, the only person who would let him cry. 

He would make Ryo cry, too.


End file.
